


barbara as euryale (or, beetlejuice needs a mother figure)

by avosettas



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, not sure what else 2 tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:29:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22705492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas
Summary: "I’m… I don’t know if I’m glad you’re back, per se. But I missed having you around.”“Like a dog,” Betelgeuse mutters into his crossed arms, not meeting her eyes.“No, like a friend or family member who I had a falling out with,” Barbara replies.
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Barbara Maitland
Comments: 6
Kudos: 186





	barbara as euryale (or, beetlejuice needs a mother figure)

**Author's Note:**

> euryale is the mother of orion in greek mythology... i thought that was fitting, considering betelgeuse is the second brightest star in the constellation of orion. 
> 
> this is based on a request for barbara and beej content from @logicallyprincely on tumblr!   
> my tumblr is @asriells come talk to me about headcanons or say hi!!

“So, um,” Lydia begins one night, at dinner. Both Charles and Adam look at Barbara. Delia, unbothered, looks only toward Lydia. “BJ’s back.” 

“We, er. Know.” Adam’s reply is stunted. Charles nods jerkily. 

“He’s been on the roof, sweetheart,” Barbara tells Lydia at her look of confusion and betrayal. “Adam and I live - well, um, you know what I mean - in the attic. And BJ isn’t exactly quiet.” 

“He has a very distinctive energy, as well,” Delia adds, nodding sagely, still spinning vegan pasta on her fork. “I knew before Barbara told me.” 

“Then why,” Lydia’s anger is a quiet, slow-growing thing, “didn’t any of you ever mention it?” 

“We knew you were talking to him,” Adam tells her, a little nervously - more nervous than Barbara thinks he’d like to be, anyway. “And we know you guys had… some sort of connection.” 

“We didn’t want to intrude, essentially.” Barbara agrees. 

“Well, I did,” Charles grunts, pushing some vegetables around on his plate like a pouty child. “But everyone else pointed out, he did save your life. More than once, apparently.” He looks pained. 

“He’s been doing a lot of thinking,” Lydia says after a minute. “And he’s really sorry about… well, most of it. He’s mostly afraid Barbara’s going to beat him up if he tries to come in.” 

“He would kind of deserve that,” Adam murmurs. 

“Most of it?” Delia questions instead. 

“Yeah, uh. Like, the exorcism thing, and screwing with your afterlives,” Lydia nods a bit at Adam and Barbara. “I don’t know, I just think he needs… people? To be around. He doesn’t know much about the Upperworld.” 

“He’s dangerous,” Charles grumbles, but Barbara can tell he’s already resigned himself to having another dead person in his house. 

“Adam and I could be dangerous if we wanted,” Barbara says, elbowing him. 

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Adam tells her. 

“He got into my good graces, standing up to his mother like that for Lydia,” Barbara explains. “Also, I’ve been doing some research. Ghosts can’t actually die, it’s more like we get recycled. I’d just be in some limbo for a bit, not gone for good.”  
“Still -” Both Adam and Charles begin protesting. Lydia rolls her eyes. 

“And,” Barbara continues louder. “I’ve been reading some child psychology books…”

“Oh, I was thinking on that as well,” Delia nods. 

“Yeah, obviously we don’t know what his mother was like when he was a child…” 

“If he was ever a child,” Charles mutters. 

“But, a lot of the reactions he has to trauma can result from being neglected… he did flat out say to her -” 

“It broke my heart a little!” Delia interrupts, fork flying from her hand. Adam catches it - weird ghost shit, hell yeah - and settles it gently on her plate. “He looked so terrified when she showed up, but oh, the ‘you fooled me with love!’... Has no one genuinely cared for him before?” 

“Fine, he can stay!” Charles grunts, suddenly joining the conversation. “He needs… people, you’re right, Lydia. But he also needs to apologize.” 

~

Barbara goes back up to the attic after dinner - Adam is helping Lydia with her English homework, and Delia and Charles don’t come up to the attic, generally. 

So she does the stupid, obvious thing, and pushes up the window so she can float up to the roof. 

Betelgeuse looks… different. The dark circles around his eyes have grown, and he looks pale and gaunt in the dim moonlight. He’s still a mess - in fact, there might be more moss and mildew on him than there had been when Barbara and Adam had first met him. 

His hair is purple, and his amber eyes are wide and fearful. For the first time, Barbara can see that he has pointed ears, like a fictional elf - they’re downturned in distress, sticking out from his wild mane, completely out of place. 

“Hi, Beetlejuice. Can I sit?” When Betelgeuse doesn’t answer, Barbara leans back against the railing. He seems to relax a bit against the chimney. “Lydia just told us you were up here, but honestly, we all knew for awhile. I’m… I don’t know if I’m glad you’re back, per se. But I missed having you around.” 

“Like a dog,” Betelgeuse mutters into his crossed arms, not meeting her eyes. 

“No, like a friend or family member who I had a falling out with,” Barbara replies. “Beej, I know you’ve got… stuff, going on, I guess? And… well, what do you know about trauma responses, psychology, those sorts of things?” 

Betelgeuse picks at a loose stitch on his pants for a moment, then answers, “Lydia keeps giving me self-help books. An’ Miss A makes me talk to one of the counselors in the Processing Centre even though I’ve been dead my whole… afterlife, I guess.” He chuckles weakly. “So, uh, a little.” 

“Okay. So. I understand you were and are still going through a lot, okay? And I care about you, we all do. But being invisible, and your mother, they’re -”

“Explanations, not excuses,” Betelgeuse parrots. “I’m, ‘m sorry for. For, uh, everything.” 

Barbara decides to move next to him, moving into the meager amount of space left at the base of the chimney. Betelgeuse flinches away first, but leans into it after a moment, especially after Barbara puts an arm around him, gentle, in case he wants her to stay away. 

“It’s… well, it isn’t okay. You tried to kill me. But I forgive you. I mean, we… you know, we did that to you too.” 

“Me and Lyds talked about that,” Betelgeuse nods. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about it. 

“Good,” Barbara sighs, resting her head on his shoulder, trying to give him some contact she knows his mother never did. He sniffles a bit, but he doesn’t move away. Actually, she thinks that if he could manage it, he would move closer. It’s chilly on the roof, even for a pair of dead people. 

Maybe she never had children while she was alive, but Barbara can take care of a millenia old demon and give him the motherly love he never had, if he’d like her to.


End file.
